"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

- Confucius

It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear and the air was clean from the rainfall the previous evening. The colours were just starting to fade from the sky. The air was chilly, but already the sun was hinting at the warm summer day to come. Birds were fluttering through the branches, chirping happily and dancing through the air with their friends.

The old man hobbled along the road beside the large, overgrown bushes. He had awoken in the middle of the night in his small apartment in the heart of the city, and had immediately gotten dressed and made the long walk across the countryside. There was a gnawing at his gut, pressuring him to hurry.

He looked up at the sky and grunted. He walked faster, his boots squeaking against the pavement. He hunched his shoulders, pushing his large tan overcoat higher up his shoulders. At the end of the bush he turned sharply to the right and through the tall grass lining the road.

There was no traffic at this time of the morning, and wouldn't be for at least another hour. The location where he was going was away from all settlements, but not untouched by civilization. Twice a day a bus would travel from the village to the city on the road that he just left, and there was an abandoned house just across the road.

The outskirts of the city laid eight hours away to the east of his destination by foot, a shorter distance that he was used to travelling. The village on the other end of the road was closer, about five hours away by foot. Many people traveled the road by none stopped along the way.

Once he reached his destination, he stopped. He stared across the lake at the small island at the centre. Many times people had tried to approach the island, but each time they failed. The boats would either crash or mysteriously capsize until nobody dared approach it.

The only thing on the island besides trees and plants was a large stone monument rising from the a hill on the south end of the island. Nobody knew what it was, for it has been there as long as anyone could remember.

The man knelt down on the rocky shore, ignoring the sharp edges that dug into his legs. He tilted his head down and whispered words that he had not spoken for over one thousand years.

Slowly the long white beard that hung from his face receded until it disappeared and his hair shortened and darkened until it turned black. The wrinkles that had long decorated his body slowly receded until his skin was once again smooth. He could feel the years being lifted from his body as his youth returned.

One the transformation was completed, he rolled his neck and shoulders, reveling in the smooth movements of his joints. He stood back up and removed his large overcoat. Without the brittle bones he no longer needed the extra protection from the elements.

He approached the edge of the lake cautiously. He stared down at his reflection and was startled by what he saw, no matter how much he had expected it. Staring back at him was a man that he once knew, and that he had not seen in many, many years.

He was even wearing the same outfit that he often would wear during those times, his favourite and best kept of his entire wardrobe. It had required much mending over the years and was kept carefully wrapped with the rest of his possessions.

It felt strange, wearing the same things that he used to wear every day. He had almost missed the simple garments and the gruff threads and fabric scratched against his skin in a familiar manner. In the moment he almost expected his old friends to come riding of the ridge, ready for a celebration. He almost shook his head at the absurd thought.

Looking up, he stared across the vast lake towards the monument on the island. He could be wrong with his assessment and have to return to his home, but there had been an itching deep within him that started weeks earlier. Something was going to happen today, something that he had been waiting over a millennium for.

For nearly fifteen hundred years he had roamed the countryside, awaiting the time that his dearest friend would return to him.

The lake was crystal clear on this summer morning, and not a ripple disturbed the surface. The first beams of sunlight streaked across the country before finally resting on the stone monument across the lake. The ground began to tremble and small animals darted away from the shore, dashing into the bushes to seek cover. The stone monument on the island began to crumble. Pieces could be seen falling to the ground below.

For the first time that morning true fear broke across the man's face. Something was wrong. His hands rose and pressed against the sides of his head as he turned and walked back a few paces anxiously. He spun around and walked back, staring at the scene intently.

Clouds quickly appeared on the horizon, speeding across the sky until they rested directly above the island. Simultaneously three bolts of lightning shot from the clouds and met at the place where the monument had stood only minutes earlier, causing deafening thunder to rolls through the air.

A beam of pure white light erupted from the remains of the monument, streaking up to the sky before disappearing behind the clouds. A second beam erupted from the sky and crashed into the lake, sending violent waves out in every direction.

The fear had left the man's face now. He was watching the events before him, completely riveted. He took a step back when the water came closer to his shoes but did now look away from the source of the waves.

He was forced to look away when light erupted from the lake. He closed his eyes tightly to block the blinding light to no avail. He turned his head away and raised his arms, spreading his hands out to held block more light. He cracked his right eye open slightly and looked at the lake.

The waves had calmed slightly, but continued to ripple out at a steady pace. A shape was slowly starting to emerge from the water, disturbing the surface.

The man was excited. Energy was coursing through his veins. For nearly fifteen hundred years he had waited for this day. He had lost hope many times over the centuries, only to have it reinstated by various tales of their adventures and some of the people he had met over his travels. He had watched so many people he loved live their lives happily, grow old, and leave the world. How many times had he had his heart shattered before he decided to hide himself away from the world and build walls around his heart that would never be broken so he could continue to live so he would be here on this day? The man had lost count of the times and reasons for his actions.

Slowly the light faded after the figure had fully emerged. The figure was a man. He stood on the lake's surface, a sword held in his hands. It glinted in the sunlight, a faint glow radiating from the blade. The man that emerged from the lake cautiously began walking across the water, never penetrating the surface. The closer he came the more features were revealed about him.

Tall with shaggy, dirty blonde hair, the man was dressed in a knight's armor. Chain-mail covered his torso and a scarlet cape adorned his shoulder. The cape held the crest of a proud, golden dragon, with its wings spread wide and head curled down. Piercing blue eyes locked onto the man on the shore, and a grin split both of their faces.

Happiness glowed from deep within his being, radiating from his body. Still his steps were graceful and his royal lineage was evident from the power and authority that was emitted from him in waves.

Finally the man reached the shore. He stopped, hesitating. He turned back to look at the island, a look of longing spreading over his face. He seemed to grow distant for a moment and his gaze glazed over. He shook his head and turned back to face the shore.

The grin returned to his face as he stepped from the lake onto the rocky shore. He raised his hands and placed them on the other man's shoulders. His voice was hoarse and tears prickled the edges of his eyes when he spoke. "Merlin."

Merlin looked at his friend, and his own tears began to pool in his eyes. He coughed slightly, trying to hide the emotions coursing through him. "Welcome back Arthur." He leaned forward and grabbed Arthur roughly, hugging him tightly.

"A-air!" Arthur gasped. He wiggled in Merlin's grasp until he was released. He stumbled backwards a couple steps. He breathed deeply his hand over his stomach. He started laughing. "You would have thought I was gone for a long time. I have only been out for a couple hours. Or many a couple days?" His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "I'm not really sure. Time is kind of muddled."

"Well, we do not need to discuss that now, sire." Merlin pointed back across the road, where the house sat, crumbling. "I have made temporary arrangements in that building for you until you can adjust to being back."

"That place? It looks more like a ruin than a place suitable for a king. Why can't we just go back to the palace? I'm feeling well enough for the journey now." A distant gaze came over his face again as he looked past Merlin, off into the distance. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we?"

"You just left Avalon. Do you remember what happened, sire?"

Arthur didn't turn towards him when he spoke. "I remember. War...death...you. Your magic. You...have...magic. You're a sorcerer." He nodded his head, like he was reminding himself of the fact. "The only thing I don't know is what happened after that. Last thing I remember we hadn't yet arrived at the lake. Morgana came." He looked around frantically. "Where's Morgana?"

"Don't worry. You handled her. She poses no threat to you or anyone else anymore." Merlin nodded towards the house. "Shall we go?"

"Merlin, you can not fool me. I know all your secrets, remember?" He grinned, patting Merlin on the back roughly. "I was in no state to go against her. I may not remember what happened exactly, but I know that it was not me that killed her. I'm proud of you, Merlin. It's about time you stood up for yourself."

Laughing awkwardly, Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to me. She caused Camelot so much pain over the years. I'm just glad that even though I couldn't deal with her myself, that you were able to."

Merlin shuffled his feet awkwardly. He didn't like the praise. He had killed a person, even if it was Morgana. He had just done what was necessary to protect Arthur and himself. He wanted to cleanse the land of her evil so she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else. A part of him did enjoy the acknowledgment though. For so long he had worked hard to keep Arthur and Camelot safe, and never received recognition for what he did.

He nodded. "Thank-you, sire." Once again he pointed towards the house behind him. "Can we go now? I know you are feeling better but I need to rest before we go anywhere else." He stopped for a second, trying to figure out how to phrase his next thoughts. "Also, there are few things that I must explain to you before we go home."

"Like what?"

"Lots of things. I'd rather sit around a fire and explain things to you though. I'm not sure how you will take them. A lot of things have changed since you left."

This time when Merlin turned and walked back across the shore, Arthur followed. When they reached the road Merlin continued walking but Arthur stopped. He looked down on the road curiously. He knelt down and felt the pavement, dragging his fingers along it. "Merlin!" he called.

Spinning around, Merlin realized why Arthur had stopped. He walked back across the road quickly, bending down to match Arthur's height. "Sire."

"What is this...this thing? It feels similar to dirt or rocks, but it feels more solid. And it's so dark." He looked in both directions along the road, trying to see where it led. "Is it some kind of path?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, something like that. I will tell you all about that once we get inside."

Bright lights shone through the remnants of darkness at the end of the road. The roar of an engine roared in the distance. Merlin stood up and pulled Arthur off of the road.

Arthur pulled the sword from its hilt in his belt, gripping it tightly in his hands. He watched the lights as they approached quickly, his face emotionless. Merlin reached over quickly and rested a calming hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Arthur. That is nothing to fear. Unless its a drunk driver, but I think we're fine."

Relaxing his stance, Arthur once again sheathed his sword and stood up straight. He looked at Merlin, confused. "What is that thing, then?"

Just as he finished his question, the early morning bus roared by on its way from the village to the city, carrying the workers for the day. Arthur jumped back when it roared past. Fear crossed his face but hid it just as quickly.

Merlin tried to hide his laugh but failed. His shoulders were shaking slightly as he watched Arthur's reaction. That was a mistake. Arthur turned and looked at him sharply, his expression deadly.

Ducking, Merlin jumped a few feet back on the road. Arthur sidestepped, prepared for the move. He grabbed Merlin and held him tightly in his arms. He reached his hand up and rubbed in Merlin's hair. "You dare to laugh at your king?"

"No! No! I wasn't laughing! Just coughing a bit." Merlin pulled himself out of his friend's grasp. He stood up straight and pointed a hand towards Arthur. He was breathing heavily. "Now, I think it's best if we go now. I really want to explain things to you before anything else happens."

Arthur obliged and followed Merlin across the road and past the crumbling wall across the road. They stood in front of the building, but before Arthur could say anything more about the state of the building, Merlin held up his hand to stop him.

Looking intently at the ruins before him, Merlin began to whisper more of the ancient words. As soon as the final one was past his lips, his eyes glowed and the world began to move around them.

Stones began to fly up from the ground around them, flying through the air. They began to interlock with the remaining stones in the structure, slowly building up until the building began to look like the house it used to be. The stones continued to fly for a couple minutes until the final tiles flew up to rest on the roof.

Merlin smiled at his work. It had been so long since he had used magic and to use it twice in one day felt great but he could feel the toll it was already taking on his body. Magic was like a muscle, it needed to be exercised to work longer and harder.

"It's going to take some more time for me to get used to that." Arthur was shaking his head, marveling at the house in front of him.

"Well," Merlin began as he turned back to face Arthur, "now you have plenty of time to get used it. All the time in the world, really."

Arthur smiled at him again. "Yeah, I guess I do." He turned and started walking towards the house.

Turning around, Merlin stayed behind. He looked back at the lake and the island in the center. He turned his head to the sky and now the smile that crossed his face was sad, burdened from years of grief.

"See you guys?" he whispered. "I told you he'd come back. The once and future king has risen again, just like the prophecy said." He looked down at his feet, and his grin grew as the excitement once again began to course through his veins. "He has risen."